Dad told my mom, we are moving to Fox River, but she wanted to know why we had to leave Healy in a ruff, as if,
but Lola stopped me saying, “ Ruff is not an English Word so if you want to further its meaning then,”
but my Mom only said, “Which femail Geologist have you sent your letter to, getting her gotten-ruffen in trouble?” which meant to me that Dad might have gotten into a Ruff with the unnamed woman, with us having to high-tail it out of town on a rail! That’s what Mom said, when I asked why we needed to leave the comforts of Healy, and move to an even more nondescript place like Fox River? Dad just said, “It’ll only be until the whole mess blows over”, but I wondered how strong those winds needed to be?!
We moved there one dark and lonely night when my Parents packed their rock hammers and Dad said, “I only hope the Alluvial Deposits are interesting enough”, which prompted my Mother to say, “We wouldn’t have to move in the first place, if you had considered my Alluvial Deposits first”, but that just started the whole argument over again!
“Were you parents ever on plain speaking terms, or did they only argue the live long day?”
“Well, that kind of depended if it was the winter or the summer. In the winter time they seemed to spend a lot of time cuddling and lighting each other’s fires, or whatever they called that kind of thing in Fox River, but in the summer, when the days were long and mom’s alluvial deposits weren’t as well-deposited as the woman down the street, then they had over 18 hours a day to “discuss” their differences by retreating to neutral corners, then raising their rock hammers and saluting, before they..”
-“but not to worry, because my mom used to say that my dad’s head was as hard as SiO2, while he just said that he knew she had a soft spot in her Talc Area, and wouldn’t hurt a hair on her…well, let’s just say they didn’t ever end up in the Emergency Room at Healy General, well not often anyway…”
Dad said we’d be there in no time, but Mom said, “Do you know how far it is from Healy down there?” Dad just laughed and said, “Well, then let’s just move Healy a bit closer and,
“Is that where you learned out to move towns from one place to another?” asked by the woman whose attention span was flexing like a rubber band as I wove yet another tale of My Life Story, as told by Myself!
We stopped off in Soldotna to “fill up the radiator and lose the kid” as my old man used to say, which is why those Canadian Gypsies found me and took me with them to-
“What Canadian Gypsies?” asked by the woman who knew all about Gypsies, having been stolen by them from her home in that largish country to the East of Alaska….Now what was it’s name again…..Don’t worry, it’ll come to me sooner or later….
“You are not going to tell me that we were in Soldotna at the same time, and that is the first time that we met each other? Are you?!”
“You know something Lola. When you yell like that, it really reminds me of my formative years growing up with my Dad, Fred Spar and his wife, whose name escapes me at the moment? Well, Fred Spar was a man that-
“Was that your father’s name? Fred? You never told me that before? And why Spar?”
“Well, it seems that when he first went out with my mom, they used to take their rock hammers, spending their time pounding each other’s….now what was it they called it back then….Well, it doesn’t matter now, does it? Well, my dad said Feldspar was the family name, but my mom being all out of breath and all after all of that pounding, thought my dad said, Fred Spar instead! Well, “-
“Don’t you have any idea what your “parents” were doing back then?” asked Lola, whose facial expression told me that this blog was spiraling down the Fox River towards Kachmak Bay, while you and I were just enjoying a Moose Shake in beautiful downtown Soldotna and staring into each other’s eyes telling each other funny stories about –
“Wait just a minute Mister! You were in the middle of at least 3 stories, then we ended up in Soldotna making Google Eyes with each other?”
“Well, we would have been doing other more interesting things, but the Gypsies were awfully strict about that kind of thing, so we had to settle for the “-
“I’ve told you before. We were not kidnapped by Gypsies. Neither Alaskan, nor Canadian Gypsies!
“That’s the Country, I’d forgotten the name of! Canada! Now what was so interesting about remembering that?”
“Well then. Let’s start all over again, shall we?”
“Dad told my mom, we are moving to Fox River, but…